Coming Back From Holiday Blues

Bb Eb I'm on my summer holidays in France Bb Eat food, drink booze, I don't wear shoes Eb And very seldom pants Bb Eb But in three days I have to travel home Bb And watch my tan just fade away Eb 'neath English skies so flinty grey Bb I've got the "coming back from holiday" blues Eb From my sunhat down to my flipflop shoes Bb There's still three days of my holiday left Eb but the thought of going home is making me depressed Bb Each sunset now is tinged with tears Eb and the tears are dripping into my beers Bb and the beers are running out and so are the days Eb 'til I have to go back my ordinary ways Gm Can't you leave me here? Eb Drinking Frenchie beer Gm Lying in the summer sun Eb Having semi-nudie fun Cm Why can't the bad times just be never Dm Eb F And the good times last forever? Bb Eb Je ne ç'est pas Bb Eb C'est merde Bb And now I'm home and I'm opening the horrible mail Eb And I haven't paid the bills and I'm going to jail Bb And the news that I missed is making me sad Eb And there's something in the fridge that smells very bad Gm Have to wait another year Eb 'til I'm drinking Frenchie beer Gm Lying in the summer sun Eb Having semi-nudie fun Cm 50 weeks of work Dm Eb F Is what we have to give for two of pleasure Bb Eb Bb Eb It's just bullshit Bb Eb Why can't life just be all the nice parts? Bb Eb Why can't life just be all the nice parts?